Anomaly
by PervyPanda
Summary: "Please allow me to express my deepest condolences in advance." Neither Life nor Death I walked a different path, I am an irregularity amongst Irregulars. I am the Anomaly. Tower of God Male Self-Insert. Rated M for crude language and dark themes.
1. Chapter 1: An irregularity

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AN: Once more we seem to be suffering an abundance of female SI but little to none male ones. Allow me to rectify that.

* * *

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Death is a part of Life.

We know that. Humans have been cognisant of the fact since times immemorial. If you live, you will of course die.

Many have fought that. Ill fated endeavours.

Or perhaps not? Could there be some who succeeded? In hiding? Suffering?

_Maybe._

Let's get back to Life.

We live because there is nothing better to do. And in life we seek happiness.

Generally, that is the norm. Those two factors shape the existence of every single human on the planet.

Those two thoughts.

'_There's nothing better to do.'_ '_I want to be happy.'_

That's life done.

_Simple right?_

Now let's look at Death.

Death is feared because it is different. Unknown.

We all know this; death is unknown.

Or perhaps not?

_Maybe._

Even though me saying we live life "because there's nothing better to do" makes it seem a bit trivial, looking at it another way, life is the **best **thing we can do at this moment.

Life is good.

Death takes that away.

Ergo: death is bad.

Even though death is a part of life. Even though death makes life worth living.

_Funny no?_

Now back to the opening sentence.

Death is a part of Life.

_Now allow me add another._

Life is a part of Death.

_Oho. _

Now isn't this strange?

Death is part of Life, yes, then doesn't it stand to reason Life is a part of Death too?

Oh my.

_We're breaking boundaries here people!_

Life leads to Death, thus Death leads to Life, which once again leads to Death.

Cycle of reincarnation.

First introduced in Hindu philosophy and religion, later adopted by Buddhist teaching and the motion was given the name; **Samsara**.

_A cycle of death and rebirth to which life in the material world is bound._

That is what I expected.

Not… _this_.

Before me stood a door.

There was no motion, no purification, no judgement, _no cycle_…

Just a door.

_I died by the way. Just in case you didn't get that._

I can't look down, I can't look anywhere _but _the door, so I can't really tell you what's happened to my body.

I feel numb. Judging from where I'm looking at the door, I _think _I'm standing, but there is no feeling _whatsoever_.

I can only look.

The door is in the centre of my vision, seemingly only a few steps away, it stands alone… I think.

Or it could just have been placed in a matt black wall. I can't tell, everything but the door is the same dull black colour, my sense of depth is off.

It's not "void black" a true absence of colour, but more charcoal black. Dull and unassuming.

Let's focus on the door a bit more shall we?

At first glance it looked like my bedroom door; wooden with a brass handle.

Then the next second it's the front door of my house; glass with a steel handle and locks.

After each "second" passes it's something else.

_Classroom door, parents room door, school door, locker door, temple door…_

Sometimes it would cycle round to a door already shown, but most of the time it would show a new door every time it changes.

There even some phantasmal doors I had never seen in real life.

_Doors of crystal, skull doors, golden doors, diamond doors, doors depicting angels, doors depicting battles, doors depicting hot lesbian sex…_

… The heck's with that last one?

But soon I realised it wasn't actually a _door _at all.

It was **choice**. The concept of a choice given form.

It was asking me a question.

It had just taken the form of a door because my puny mortal mind was incapable of comprehending the complexity of **choice**.

_Truly, this was __**not **__what I was expecting when I died._

Death was something abstract and foreign to me, I was not even expecting to be able to _think_. Death was simply a state of being, different from Life.

Death shouldn't give you a choice.

Yet before me, there stood the concept objectified as a door.

_Thus this was not Death._

It beckoned me.

It made me dizzy, sick, terrified and exulted at the same time.

Yet it was unnatural.

Death is a part of Life and Life is a part of Death…

This was neither.

This was not Life or Death, this was Choice.

It's breaking the rules. It's not right. It's unfair. **It's all mine**.

'… _I really shouldn't be doing this…'_

But it would seem, finally, after I fucking died…

'_But imma do it anyway.'_

I'm hitting my rebellious phase.

The door, or rather **choice**, closes in. Whether I am moving to the door, or the door is coming to me, I do not know.

And frankly, I do not care.

I can feel my hand, there's only one thing to do with it.

The door is opened.

The choice is taken.

Neither Life nor Death, I walked somewhere else.

This is not normal, this goes beyond irregular, it's a glitch in the system, a spanner in the works, someone put a banana in the nuclear reactor.

When you have such a large system such as Life and Death, Irregularities are to be expected. Those abnormalities are, ironically, normal.

However I'm not just an Irregular.

I'm an irregularity amongst Irregulars.

I'm an Anomaly.

I'm an elephant to an ant. A wolf amongst sheep. A shark swimming with sardines.

I'm a tiger to their house cat.

And unfortunately for them, or perhaps _you_.

_I just entered through the cat-flap._

Please allow me to express my deepest condolences in advance.

Cause you're well and truly fucked.

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* * *

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_What do you desire?_

Money and Wealth?

Honour and Pride?

Authority and Power?

Revenge?

_Or._

Something that transcends all of them?

_Whatever you desire-_

"**Is in here.**"

Tower of God.

Begins now.

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* * *

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AN: Boom. Prologue. Done.


	2. Chapter 2: A rabbit leads the way

Walls without a ceiling and purple light. That is what filled my vision upon "arrival".

The walls were sands brown, worn and ancient looking, with engravings, veins, giant depictions and leaf like patterns adorning them. They towered above me.

They were ancient.

Every so often there was a pillar built in, with a single torch alit on it, providing muted light and long shadows.

Once they would have been magnificence, not only in height but also design, they would be a marvel to witness.

They still were, but it was a slightly sorrowful feel. The crumbling walls gave a lonely ambience. A morbid testament to times will.

Above, high above in a black sky, there shone a single purple star. It was like no other.

Mysterious didn't cut it, it was a mix of strange, terrifying and alluring, all rolled up into one unique, amethyst luminary.

It's glow only added to the forsaken echo of this empty hall, mixing and mingling with the weak yellow torch light.

The hall was alien and ancient.

For it was a hall. Covered in rubble, perhaps the remains of the roof or crumbling walls, but a grand hall nonetheless.

It was wide as it was tall, there was a hallowed quality. Even ghosts had turned to dust here, of that I was certain.

My mind seems fuzzy, but that was indeed what I saw.

I stood still, breathing the stale air, and waiting.

'_For what? Why? Till when?'_

These thought never once crossed my mind.

I just waited.

Till eventually-

"I do not want you to climb the Tower."

A bunny appeared.

.

.

Those other two, the black haired lady and the short silver boy left.

Bam had disappeared. He went on ahead. He defeated that giant eel. He popped the ball. He defied the odds…

Like a hero.

To find me.

'_It's scary.' _

"Did you see?" The monster spoke. "The boy went up."

Its tone was polite, but I couldn't help but think it mocking me. Afterall…

'_They all mock me.'_

"What will you do now… mis-!"

_A glitch._

What?

I blinked? My eyes closed against my will. Was that a blink? Or perhaps my vision was stolen? For a brief moment I could not see.

I was not _allowed _to see.

Then when I saw again, a boy was there.

I couldn't tell his age, but he couldn't be much older than I. My sense of aesthetics is uncultured, but I could tell he ascertain he was by no means ugly.

'_Not like I.'_

Light brown skin, black hair, lean body and golden eyes. He was dressed in a plain black robe and nothing else. He wore no shoes or undershirt.

With bare feet, he just stood there, observing his surroundings.

But that was not what held my interest.

Headon, the monster "administrator", had a wonderful expression.

_Stupefaction. Unwillingness. Incomprehension._

That irritating look. Like everything is going to plan, like you know me, like you're better than me, like I'm nothing, like I'm a bug, like I'm weak…

All gone.

It was wonderful.

'_Serves him right. For mocking me, for mocking me, for mocking me, for mocking me, for moc-'_

My own pettiness took pleasure at anything that the monster didn't like.

_So childish._

'_I don't care. Shut up. I'm right.'_

...

For a time there was silence. The monster stood there like an idiot (_hah!_), I stayed quite and the new boy was simply noting his surroundings.

None of us moved. I remained invisible, Headon remained in the shadows, the boy observed one of the giant depictions, hand clasped behind his back.

He was astoundingly calm and composed.

Not a step taken, he seems entirely content to just stare at that carving, yet there is no look of panic or disorder on his face. He looked serene.

'_Why isn't he panicking? What does he know? Is he like me? Is he strong? Is he stronger than me? Is he kind? Can he help me? Would he help me? Will he help me?'_

To me the boy seemed unfathomable.

Then the monster spoke.

"I do not want you to climb the Tower."

And just like that I had decided.

'_I want him to climb the tower with me.'_

A chuckle echos from the depth of my mind.

_So petty. So childish. Just because his eyes looks like Bam's._

'_Shut up. I'm right. He's better than Bam.'_

_Tut-tut._

I ignore _her _voice. I'm used to it. I'm better than her.

I'm going to be a Princess. I'm going to see the stars.

_**I won't let the dark swallow me.**_

A familiar chuckle.

_Tut-tut… _

I ignore it. I'm better than _her_.

.

.

The bunny spoke again, repeating him(its?)self.

"I do not want you to climb the Tower."

I blink at him, tilting my head but otherwise silent. Let the silence suck out the truth.

The bunny continued.

"One is enough, two pushing it, but three is excess. You are not needed here. The Tower does not need you. The Tower does not welcome you _Irregular_."

The bunny is like a pokemon, I want to catch it.

'_... What's a pokemon?'_

The bunny's voice starts to raise at my continued "indifference".

"The water can be stirred! Must be stirred! At times this is necessary, yes! But you are too much! Excess! Undeeded! _You shall not climb the Tower!_"

The bunny's worked up pants do not echo through the halls, yet I feel like the atmosphere has changed. A new "echo" is resounding through this roofless hall.

The walls themselves give of a feel of frustration. That purple star getting more intense as the bunny ranted.

Hmmm.

It would seem I am rather unwelcome?

The bunny was getting pretty passionate there at the end.

Still, it would seem the bunny has said his piece. He(it?) is now just staring at me with that Arceus-like head, beady aquatic eyes holding my gaze.

'_... Who's Arceus?'_

I feel like I should have a suitable response for such an impassioned triade, but first things first...

"What Tower?"

The bunny went very, very still. It's hard to tell, but I think one of its eyes twitched. The ball-tipped staff I didn't pay attention to before clenched tightly in its hands.

The walls gave a faint groan.

'_... They're not about to fall are they, like right now? That's bad aint it? I think it's bad.'_

I think I heard someone snickering too.

"_... What is your name._" The bunny eventually gritts out.

I blink. Name…?

Name? What's a name-

_Identification papers please. Passport? Sign here. How do you spell that? Please wear this tag whilst visiting. Isn't that you in the newspaper? I will remember you. Could you say that again?_

Oh… Name.

"We may have got of on the wrong foot." I extend my hand for a shake, "My name is Iskander David Kyrielight Emiya Bucephalus Bellerophon Pendragon the III, son of Azathoth, high priest of Slaanesh, Destroyer of Worlds." I let the words hand and do my best to smile. "A pleasure."

… Silence…

For some reason I imagined the sound of crickets.

'_... What are crickets?'_

"Ah, just to confirm." Did I do it wrong? "That was a joke."

…

The walls groaned.

'_... What's a facepalm and why do I want to do it?'_

A part of me wants to dig a hole, and the other part is wondering why.

"Eherm…" I shuffle a bit, an itch I would later christen '_awkwardness' _crawled through my stomach compelling me to speak. "What might your name be mister rabbit?" My hand still hanging before me, waiting to "_shake_."

'_Whatever that means anyway.'_

Slowly, oh so slowly, one of the rabbits three-fingered hands unclench from its staff and grudgingly move to mine.

"... Headon. Guardian of the first floor of the Tower."

Our hands clasped, his pasty white paw a fair bit larger than mine. I could faintly feel a powerful thurum through his hand.

'_Strong.'_

I look at Headon once more.

'_Very strong.'_

involuntarily, truly involuntarily, my heart beat just a little quicker.

For some reason I felt calmer. I was not confused, but I realise I was a tad absentminded before. But this felt familiar. This grounded me.

Headon had his head turned slightly to the side so he could look at me with his eye. He was alien, unfamiliar to me, even If I know little I know that.

Yet it was exactly that unfamiliarity, that air of energy and (now I realise) barely restrained frustration that snapped me out of my "simpleness".

Headon represented danger.

And danger gleams like sunshine to a brave man's eyes.

I not so much as smile, but bare my fangs. Our grip slightly tightens as we shake silentently.

"So then Mr Headon. Tell me." We lean back, breaking the acknowledgment. "_What is the Tower?_"

The walls have stopped groaning, I guess he was just annoyed at my flippant attitude, my instant maturity must have satisfied his pride somewhat. Or maybe he's just taking what he can get.

There is still some frustration about but it's mostly replaced by resignation.

"... The Tower holds all answers. Whether you are looking for; wealth, immortality, absolute power, magical abilities or mysteries, all is there. All the truth, glory and happiness in the world-"

The "guardians" voice is almost a reverent whisper, set somehow still dull and uninspired.

"_Are all up there…"_ He looks at me quietly and concludes, "the Tower is such a place."

With that he turns on the spot, I can almost hear the silent huff.

My eyes narrow.

"You are contracted to say that." He didn't _want _to say that.

"How astute." He does not turn, continuing to walk down the hall.

"You do not want me to go up." Recalling his greeting rant.

"No, I do not." He continues to walk.

I decide to follow.

"Explain why again?"

"You are excessive." He said simply.

We continued to walk. I noted the extra set of footsteps trailing some ways behind. I did not see anyone, invisible? There is no extra shadow, not just invisible then, some sort of phased state? Yet I can still hear footsteps? How strange.

Headon is obviously aware of the extra but did not deign to inform me of them.

We continued down the hall, or should I call it a corridor with how long it is, for some time.

I contemplated.

Not on anything specific at first, I just turned inwards and started thinking.

The monotonous walk, flickering yellow light, dreamy purple light and background sounds of our footfalls with the faint burning of combustibles allowing me to enter a perfect state of self-reflection.

A self-reflection that eventually landed on a single topic.

'_Before,'_

Before **what**? _This_. What is **this**? _Unknown_. What **was **before? _Unknown_. What **happened **before? _Unknown_. **When **was before? _Unknown_. **Why **did before end? _Unknown_. **Who **was I before? …

_Known_.

"By the way…" My sudden speech caused the invisible footsteps almost falter. "The name's Arayan. It is truly a pleasure."

I got a singular grunt in return from Headon.

Heh. Fun guy.

'_Bit still… Before huh?'_

My name is Arayan. I didn't know that before I asked the question. I assume more knowledge will resurface in a similar manner in the coming future.

Perhaps even a few memories but somehow I rather doubt it.

My semi-hypnotic state fully broken, I don't bother try entering it again. Instead choosing to simply enjoy the scenery. The giant depictions on the walls framed by pillars were all unique.

Although the etchings was simplistic, maybe even minimalistic, they were each different and depicting their own strange beasts and scenery. But besides that, just their sheer size was worthy of note by itself.

As we pass I take note of the more unusual ones.

_One depicted a cyclops like creature with bat wings, one a tree with eyeballs as leaves, another a swarm of dragonflies mid-flight arranged in the shape of a skull…_

As we walked the illustrations seemed to get more and more fearsome.

I could more or less tell these "depictions" were more like labels. Headon is the "guardian", in other words he protects this floor, yet he is contracted to give that spiel on how everything is up the Tower.

This is conflicting.

He guards here yet is contracted to lure people to go up. He doesn't want some people to go up so he chooses who goes up. He tests them. These depictions are probably all tests. The test depictions look to be getting harder.

Headon _really _doesn't want me going up.

… Well. I figured that out from the beginning though.

I scratch my ear.

'_What a roundabout thought process I have.'_

Eventually we stop. After how long I do not know. How far we have come I do not know.

I take in the scene.

'_There's a roof.'_

The walls had been getting progressively more intact as we walked, less ruble littered the floor and minute cracks on the pillars that were commonplace before had completely disappeared.

It was by no means immaculate, there was still a fine layer of dust, the air was stale and there _was _still rubble swept to the sides. But it was a world of difference from the area I arrived at.

However the greatest change was before me. A ceiling. The roof domed, looking at it the corridor looked like a giangatic archway.

Cliche it may sound, the shadow the roof cast could only be called a "shadowy maw."

From where the roof starts there were no touches lit, the torches from the topless part of the corridor can not pierce the darkness cast by the stone canopy and the shine of that purple star was obviously also unable to light the way down.

The wall of blackness was as intense as it was immense.

But it was strange.

'_Somehow it was not to the extent I expected? It didn't scare me as much I thought? It was lacking?'_

Then I noted the thin shimmering purple sheen, previously indistinguishable due to the intensity of gloom that stole my attention. The sheen was delicate, like silk had been woven from light and draped over the entrance to the "archway".

'_Oh.'_

"That purple starlight has created a barrier over the entrance. It's muffling much of the impact that darkness should give." I state.

"Yes." A one word confirmation.

"Are we going down there?" I don't think our tag-along would be able to handle _that_.

"... No." Headon seemed to consider it but soon denied it. Whatever was down there must be pretty bad. "Not even for you."

Pretty bad indeed, so bad it is not worth the trouble going there to get rid of even me, the dreaded "excess".

"This will be enough." He turns on the spot to face me in what seemed like an age. "This will be enough." He repeats, using his staff to point to one of the depictions on my right.

Only a few depictions away from the "archway" was my test, framed by two pillars like all the rest.

I'd like to say it was unique or special or had some deep meaning to me that I didn't know existed, like karma had finally seen to it's dues, but it wasn't.

All the illustrations had been strange and unique, so in a way they were all normal. This was no different.

It had an incredibly ominous feel, but when nestled in between the grotesque feel of the wasp depiction to the right and the baleful aura of the snake depiction to the left, it was nothing special.

That did not mean I was going to underestimate it however, Headon had to have chosen this specific one for a reason. And Headon has made it abundantly clear he _does not _want me going up.

This may well end me. I've known that for a while though.

Ever since we started walking, the whispers of death had gradually been getting increasingly stronger. Each one of these depictions could squash me like a bug.

Now I had just gone from bug to plankton.

'_Death approaches.'_

But for some reason that does not scare me at all.

The errant thought '_been there, done that'_ runs through my mind.

Headon spoke.

"Do not climb the Tower. I can arrange land, riches, women, power and indulgences beyond your imagination for you... as long as you do not climb the Tower." A final bid.

"You knew from the start I would want to climb the Tower. Once you gave that contracted speech, you didn't even need to ask my intentions. Why waste words now?"

"... Indeed. I have seen your type many a time. You need no grand reason to climb other than that there is something to climb. Material gains mean little to you, but I must make a final bid."

"... I can see you really don't want me up there huh." It was a statement not a question. I consider the guardian for a moment, he radiated sincerity.

He would truly have supplied me all those things had I agreed, doing his utmost to satisfy me without letting me climb the Tower.

How unfortunate.

A low chuckle inadvertently rumble through my chest. I'm not even sure what's funny but I know it is.

"My apologies." I look at him with equal sincerity. "But I'm afraid I've just recently hit my rebellious phase."

I bow 90° towards the guardian.

He doesn't react.

"I truly regret putting you in a difficult situation." I rise. "But I _will _climb this Tower."

There is silence, Headon does not sigh, huff or react in any way outwardly. But there is a definite sense of acceptance.

Followed by ancient indifference.

I feel a shiver down my spine.

Headon was not chilling or cold, he was ancient. Like he had seen suns burn out, worlds turn to dust and species rise anew.

"Very well." His voice was low. "Then you will die."

He walks to the wall and taps it with his staff.

"This is your test."

The ominous depiction alters into a giant wall of metal mesh. A fense jailing in the beast that was illustrated.

"This is the Memory Giant."

.

.

I blink.

"Mic test! Mic Test. One two, one two. Ah, ah. We good? Good."

The racket is annoying. I rub my forehead.

"Ehhhhh. It would seem the final two Regulars have arrived. Our apologies for the hold up."

Where am I?

"Hello everyone!"

I'm surrounded by long grass that comes up to my chest.

"All the Regulars who have made it to the Tower! We sincerely welcome all of you, to the Second Floor…"

There's a slight breeze.

"Evankhell's Floor!"

And an irritatingly loud voice.

"This is Evankhell's Floor, it is also called the Floor of Tests'! Because-"

There seems to be floating black balls- _pockets _my mind supplies- spaced at equal distances apart transmitting the irritating voice.

"Here we carry out the final test to see whether you are qualified to go up the Tower!"

Tower? Oh. _The Tower_. The one Headon didn't want me climbing.

"Well- I'll explain the details to y'all later!"

I'm here? How? When? What happened?

"First let's start the test!"

No. Wait. Be calm. Deal with all that when you're safe.

"Y'all waited long enough! It's been long since we warmed up!"

… Is that Laputa's Floating Castle in the distance?

"The first test is simple! I dislike complicated things!"

… No need to sound so proud about it

_Still._

"One rule!"

A bad feeling draws in with the bleak breeze.

"Survive!"

The winds bring a smell of blood with it.

"By all means possible!"

And the bad feeling proves true.

"This! Is! A! Thirty! Minute! **Deathmatch**!"

A cheerful voice announces the falling sythe.

"Reaadyyyy-"

A hand grips the sleeve of my robe.

"Begin!"

A small girl with primrose hair and fearful eyes of the same colour clung to me.

"""_**RAGHHHHHHH**_"""

Roars erupt around us but I could only stare nonplussed.

"_**DIE SHITSTAIN**_"

'_When did she get there?'_

.

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AN: I think I will have to be doing this in little snippets for a while. Back at college now, so free time will decrease.

There will be longer, better chapters in the future, but right now this way is probably best till we get into the really good nitty-gritty parts.

Sharp bursts to get the ball rolling and _keep _it rolling.

**Under Dim Lighting** is _still _being worked on, currently at 25 pages.

I hope this intrigues you, or at least piques your interest.

Leave a review and like if it pleases, I read them all and appreciate any support you can give.

Right now I'm going to bed.

Panda out.


	3. Chapter 3: You're the dad?

"Strip."

_'... What?'_

"Strip. Give me your clothes."

_'What?'_

"Oh for fucks sake, imma knock you out m'kay?"

_'Wha-'_

_*******Boink***_

.

* * *

.

"Shoulda done that from the start." I mumble.

_'He made a strange noise when I hit him... what's his skull made of?'_

I could feel the girl's- _Rachel _as she introduced herself_\- _eyes were light on my back as I frisked the unconscious body before me.

For some reason I feel no discomfort at committing this reprehensible act before her, as if her opinions didn't matter… no not only her, it was as if no one's opinions mattered to me.

This was confusing to me. My sense of self may be vague and memories blurred but I don't believe I was of the arrogant disposition.

Yet here I am, privately considering her beneath me.

Privately considering _everything _beneath me.

A baseless pride? Egotism? Hubris? No… not quite.

_'I just feel a great sense of dissonance with the world at large.'_

What that might mean and what it might imply were lost to me at the moment. I had no time to consider it anyway.

The scent of blood was permeating the air slowly yet steadily. Malice slowly filling the tract of floating land like water filling a cup.

_'That's another thing…'_

I seem to me hyperaware to malice and ill-intent. I can see how that would be useful in the future, but right now it's just another thing I can't control- another thing I don't understand.

_'Irritating.'_

All the hostility feels like needles pricking my skin. It's making me twitchy.

So I get to work.

I _feel _Rachel flush and avert her eyes, eyes leaving my person as I strip the unlucky fellow of his trousers. Now the passed out sack of meat was only wearing a fundoshi like underwear to protect its decency.

Its (for I care not to ascertain it's true gender) items and clothes laid out next to it for me to appraise.

The meat bag was humanoid enough, standing around my height, maybe a tad shorter, but far thinner. The beings skin was an unhealthy shade of pale for humans, but perhaps it was the norm for its people.

Bulbous eyes, pale skin and elongated ears are stereotypical for creatures adapted to living underground are they not?

It's armaments were crude to my eyes, however I feel my expectations may have been a tad unrealistic. Once more I find myself confused by the lofty standard I judge my surroundings by. It seems to be set a bit too high no?

_'No matter.'_

There were only a few of its possessions worthy of interest. The rest just a few grades above ornamental rags. Unbefitting of myself.

_'Ugh... There it is again…'_

Discarding the atypical opinions, I somewhat reluctantly, but swiftly equipped the bracers. Fashioned of dark brown leather and inlaid with golden rune-like symbols, given the quality, the bracers seemed to be the cornerstone of the creatures equipment.

Looking at its naked body once more, I note there are quite a few scars on its forearms, plus they are by far the most muscled part of its anatomy. Its fighting style probably made use of blocking critical blows with those bracers extensively.

The only other thing of interest was its sword. Reminiscent of an Egyptian Khopesh, the things reach was about as long as my arm. The handle was crafted with some sort of bone and there was a red coloured tassel attached to its pummel.

_'... Egypt… Ancient dynasty, pyramids, pharaohs, deserts…'_

Less than a memory, more than a feeling, the "returning" knowledge was just data to me...

I will return to that _data _at a later date.

I feel like I'll have to return to a lot of things till a later date.

_'The Memory Giant, how I got here, who I am, what happened to Headon, what's a floor-' _I look to my till now silent companion, '_why this girl is clinging to me like some lost child...'_

But it will all have to wait.

The girl- who by dint of being the only connection to what happened prior- was elevated from "_insignificant bug"_ to "_friend's pet goldfish"_, shuffled slightly closer at the sounds of approaching screams.

She shuffled closer still when they stopped.

I let out a short breath through my nose. I suppose it would be crass of me to not comfort a clearly distressed lady- _girl _rather. Though it pains a part of me to have to stoop to a goldfish's level.

_'... That will really need sorting.'_

"Stay close, but if I tell you to back off, **you back off**." I stare at her. "Am I understood."

She nodded frantically, fear colouring her pale yellow eyes as she looked up at me with quivering lips.

_'Hmmm.'_

Something about the way her hair flopped around pathetically reminded me of something amusing so I smirked slightly. She blushed at the sight and looked down, her countenance still fearful but there was a touch of demurity not present before.

How foolish, she must have thought I was smiling for _her_.

I roll my eyes, but did not bother to correct the misconception. There was still conflicting notions within me, I would prefer to limit interactions to a minimum before I decide how my character should be.

But more importantly, we have company.

It would seem someone had _finally _noted our presence.

It landed behind me with a bang, not a thud. I watched Rachel's eyes widen in panic and face pale in terror with sadistic curiosity. I fought down another fanged grin.

_'Hmmm, Yes. She certainly reminds me of something. Something about the way she displays her emotions on the sleeve and the floppy hair… some sort of animal I think.'_

I kinda want to put a collar on her.

This time the bestial smirk could not be fought down.

And yet again the fool of a girl took it as reassurance, that I was not scared and would protect her. Her legs ceased to tremble and her breath stabilised.

Once again I didn't bother with correcting her. A relatively cool headed goldfish is better that a panicked one. She was partly right anyway.

I was not scared.

With no delicious face of dread to enjoy anymore, I casually turned around, and looked **up**.

A pale humanoid with long gangly arms with squatting in a half crouch yet towering over us, the creature was at least six of seven meters tall straight-backed.

It had bloodshot bulbous eyes and lang serrated ears, canines protruded its mouth and dripped with saliva. The beings armed were disproportionately muscular compared to its otherwise skinny frame, and it had a large sickle-sword in each hand.

_'Aha.'_

"One of yours?" I ask politely and gesture to the unconscious- and mostly naked- meat bag to the side.

Veins bulge on the already ugly mug of the beast's face. It's already bloodshot eyes becoming visibly more red with each passing second.

"_MY. DAUGHTER._" Come a grinding, raspy voice, higher than one would expect given its larger than average physique.

I blink.

Then turn to the fallen body, the goldfish doing so as well. I take stock of my first victim once more.

The wisps of hair on a balding misshapen head, the bent hook-like nose, the mismatched arm lengths, the liver spots decorating _her _(ugh) torso… her flat chest.

_'...'_

I look back to the father, my goldfish doing the same.

For the first time in living memory, I find myself struggling to find the words.

Eventually I could look up at him with sympathy.

"My condolences."

.

* * *

.

**AN**: Wussup homies.

Apologies for the short chapter, but it's all I could squeeze out at the moment.

This is just me de-stressing, currently I have my finals for art going on and it requires my full attention.

I'm not sure when the next chapter will come out (for any of my stories) but I hope you enjoyed this one at least.


	4. Chapter 4: Woof

What is a Goldfish?

I've been calling the girl as such on a whim, but I've yet to analyse the memory or meaning.

\- _**Fwoosh**__-_ I hop back avoiding a gutting swing. There are better times to consider such questions, but it'd been bugging me since we started.

I can't help but feel the current nickname unsuitable for the girl. Given it's illustrious name, a "goldfish" must surely be a majestic creature. Doubtlessly large in size, a graceful behemoth with plated scales. Surely, a beautiful being.

_Umu. _

Oh- side-step a splitting strike. _**-Bang-**_ the crude blade digs deep into the soil, the bottom of my gown flutters in the shock-wave.

_It's rather breezy._

My foe takes a moment to yank his giant Khopesh out of the ground, his momentum dead. _I could have killed him just now. _The cave-dweller, blinded by rage and grief, continues heedless of reason.

I could have killed him. _Yet I didn't._ Why? _I do not know._ But perhaps I should focus on one problem at a time.

My current quandary; the name Goldfish is inappropriate, so what to call the girl now? Of course it can't be her _actual _name, that would be stupid. No, it must be suitably subhuman and demeaning.

_Why? _Not sure, but it _feels _right. Or at least it feels _**half **_right. Half of me feels it would be proper, the other half seems indifferent… or sleeping.

Either or.

"STORP DUDGING AND FIGHT!" The long-limbed thing shouted, revealing it's speech impediment.

Well, that or it's just stupid, or perhaps its mother tongue is different from the one we speak currently?

_-This "pocket", it points at the floating ball, provides a translation for the majority of all languages spoken in the tower-_

My eye twitches. Now I'm getting memories I don't remember from just earlier today… At least I think it happened earlier today.

I internally groan as I dodge increasingly rage fuelled swings.

How long was I out? How long has passed since I awoke in this here fields of carnage?

A near miss ruffles my hair.

How troublesome.

Alas, such concerns can wait till later. I have a more important question to answer… **What to name the girl!?**

_You're still on that…_

I ignore the sigh from my sleepy side, the first action he's taken thus far, and listen to my haughty side rave on what was appropriate to name the girl.

It was rather entertaining.

I was unaware two parts of the same being could so eloquently express their own opinions… then again, I am unaware of many things.

I am hit by a wave of sadness. It comes from that sleeping side. He is sad. _Why?_

_Because I have lost much._ That is saddening? _Yes_. To not know? _Yes_.

It is a shame. It is a shame to be ignorant. It is saddening to have forgotten.

… You are strange. _No, __**we **__are strange._

… No, _I_ am strange. Yes. There is a twinge of satisfaction as I think that. I understand, just a bit, but I understand. I feel full and content on the knowledge.

_**-Bang- **_I almost killed the _thing _in reflex. _Lowly bugs disturbs my thoughts-!_

Well why don't I? Wasn't I thinking of something else though? Unimportant. Kill it. _Kill it now_. A part of me wanted to kill it.

So I decided to kill it.

I move on a foreign instinct, the motions themselves uncannily fluid. The bug swings, from mid-left to mid-right, it's a vicious, sweeping motion across its body.

_Stupid_. The bugs arms are spread out, inviting, its chest unguarded. I could crush it, I can hear its heart beating, I _know _where to hit. But such a punch would risk my fist and wrist. The bug is dumb and gangly, but its bones are thick.

_Not worth it._

Thus my aim is a softer spot; It's neck.

Alas, it is a tad tall for me to comfortably reach without overextending and jumping in battle is a sin. I feel my eyes narrow in anger. _I will have it lower its head. _

I kick out one of it's kneecaps. The motion was less graceful than my approach, striking less natural to me than dodging.

The bug screeches, his howl of pain joining the distant chorus. Scratchy and high pitched, the wail was an assault on my ears.

All the more reason to end it.

It fell on its knee, free clutching the destroyed joint in pain. _Foolish_. Its shoulder dropped; leaving my aim completely unprotected. Smoother than my kick but less than my movement, my hand drifted to its neck.

My finger felt like a talon. I hooked something. I continued drifting. The bug finished falling.

You could just about hear the rush of blood spurt out its ripped Jugular. The scent of blood became a little thicker.

_Dead. _I give the corpse a glance. _Very dead_.

I felt very little at the confirmation. This was catalogued to analyse later.

Still feeling some irritation (_why was that again?_) I looked over the girl and that other unconscious bug with a slight glare. Wasn't the dead bug and the unconscious bug related?

_That was the cause of the fight._

Should I kill it too?

… _No._

Very well.

I didn't want to kill right now. These emotional switches are giving me whiplash. My body once more moved on instinct.

"Girl." Was this the first time I'd spoken to the girl? "Assist me."

She shuffled over, unsure on what to assist me with, but eager to help. She got the message once I flipped the bug over and started searching its body.

Twas time to loot.

… _Also time to think of the girl's new name._

You're **still **on that?!

.

.

We nicked the bugs necklace and its rings, nothing else was worthy of note. I gave the loot to the girl, she actually had _pockets _to store them in.

_-variety of functions such as storing small objects, recording mes...- _

I twitch. "Visible Mode." A black ball, floating silently, reappears by my side. I gave it a contemplative look. "... Storage." It was a guess. A white box, barely larger than a hand-width appeared on the black surface.

I held out my hand to the girl, sending a pointed glance at the pocket she'd just stuffed the loot in. Without complaint or any hint of annoyance she forked them out and held them to me.

_So eager to please…_

I picked the necklace, a crude but well made trinket of teeth, chain and gems. I dropped it into the white box. It disappeared. I blinked.

_How curious._

How did one retrieve the item?

I tapped the white box experimentally; a hologram appeared. What a surprise. _Why am I not surprised?_ It displayed a rectangular grid, five by two, ten boxes total.

An inventory screen.

How quaint.

In the upper-left corner of the grid display, a single box was occupied. It showed a pixelated image of the necklace I had just dropped in. _How do I get it out?_

I tapped the air where the box was projected. All other boxes of the grid disappeared as the necklace box centred itself above the white square on the Pocket. On a whim, I tapped the white square once more, hand passing through the hologram.

The necklace came out. I jingled it around a second. I put it back in.

Huh. Neat.

_I felt like a child._

_Very _carefully, I refrain from letting myself fall for the childish loop, instead I turn to the girl.

I gesture to my Pocket, "Try so with yours." It wasn't an order, I felt no need to phrase it as such. The girl followed my word without hesitation anyway.

The girl repeated my actions. Turns out the inventory screens are near invisible to those not the owner and it is possible to stack objects in a single slot, as proven by the multiple rings in the girls inventory.

We even tested the size of each slot, stuffing as much (of the bugs) clothing in as possible, turns out each slot size is about as big as the Pocket itself.

That is to say; smaller than my head but larger than my knee.

_That is a strange analogy. _

But accurate.

It was quite fun. There, next to a large rock in a field of death, playing with our toys. To the extent I even forget to act all haughty-like.

… _Why have we not been attacked yet?_

We had, after all, just spent the last minute playing around with our toy pocket-dimensions.

Something should happen right?

…

Nothing happens.

…

Seriously, nothing.

…

_*Distant screams*_

...

Well, no matter.

I was feeling good, content, happy even. This was interesting and I was strong. I could afford to have fun. I could afford… a tag along.

The girl was crouching next to me, finger continuously tapping the white box on her pocket, rings appearing and disappearing at rapid rates. Her eyes fixed on the childish loop.

I almost snort.

_Obedient. Floppy hair. Above average face? Eager to please, would look better in a collar… Oh. _I had thought of a name for the girl.

I stood. No sense remaining here any longer. I would like to explore more. I looked over my shoulder at the girl. She looked up at me, awaiting my direction. I gave her a brief nod. Yes, I've decided. "Come, puppy." She will accompany me further yet.

Perhaps, one day, I might even warm up to her?

.

.

.

**AN**: Bitch is currently a puppy. Woof.

This chapter is messy. It was written in parts and over a long period of time, I only just got back to finishing it because of the brilliant Worm/ToG fic appearing recently. My thanks Morgan Arc.

The fight scene is shit, but I had written that nearly a year ago now, so hopefully it will get better.

Honestly, I don't really see how it can get _worse _from here, hence the reason I've not wanted to look at this shit, but I just want to write some ToG.

It's an understaffed fandom.

Whatever, I'll see y'all next time, whenever that may be.


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